


Nosing Around

by grey2510



Series: Misc SPN Works (<15k words) [32]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Undercover, likely inaccurate representation of industry standards and practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 02:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18489886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: Dean has to go undercover at a factory to investigate mysterious burned up victims. Unfortunately, his cover has some unexpected and undesirable consequences.





	Nosing Around

"So do you think we'll have time to grab dinner before the movie? My sister says she doesn't get out until six," Heather said as she grabbed her purse and shoved her work shirt into her locker.

Kendall shrugged. "There's that pizza place next door. Don't have to do a huge sit-down meal. She could meet us there."

"Good call." Heather took her phone out of her purse to text her sister just that. "Hey, what'd you think of that trial today?"

Kendall wrinkled her nose as they crossed the locker room to the door, but kept her voice low, as they technically weren't supposed to talk about their work outside of the focus groups and feedback sessions. "Nasty as hell. On what planet did they think those were going to pass?"

"No kidding. At least it was a change from the year everything was cucumber melon."

"Think I'd rather—"

But Kendall never got to finish that sentence because right before Heather's eyes, she burst into flame.

 

~*~*~*~*~ SUPERNATURAL LOGO ~*~*~*~*~   

 

"Still don't get why I have to be the one who goes undercover," Dean grumbled as they left the motel room, for the first time jealous of Sam's FBI suit.

"Scissors, Dean, always with the scissors," Sam answered. "Also, Cas says that all perfumes smell like molecules to him anyway so he'd be a crap beta tester—"

"It's true. I also have no context for what humans would consider normal for perfume scents," Cas said. "I've never understood why humans feel the need to mask their natural musk if they are otherwise clean and healthy."

Dean held up a hand, ticking off fingers. "First, don't say musk, you sound like a weirdo. B, aren't you the one who told me to put on that cologne two days ago?"

"Yes, because you still smelled like crocotta guts even after several showers," Cas said. "Those were unpleasant molecules."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, ok. But I didn't hear you complaining about those showers when—"

"Aaaand that's why I'm not letting you and Cas partner up," Sam jumped in. "You're worse than horny teens at the prom. You need to be _professional_."

Cas and Dean looked at each other, and then back at Sam. "What," Dean countered, "we can be professional."

"Uh huh." Sam opened up the passenger door to the Impala and slid in, leaving Dean and Cas standing outside the car.

Dean shook his head, jabbing a thumb in his prissy little brother's general direction. "What's his problem? We're professional as fuck."

Utterly stone-faced, Cas answered, "Yes, dear," and got in the car.

Dean couldn't help but grin at the sassy dork—he'd really picked himself a winner.

 

~*~*~*~*~ COMMERCIAL BREAK ~*~*~*~*~   

 

It was three hours into his shift and Dean's eyes were watering worse than when he was around a cat. Heather, the friend of the most recent burnt-to-a-crisp chick at the perfume testing facility, looked at him sympathetically.

"Are you sure you're not allergic?" she asked.

Dean rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine. I think it's a cold or something." Of course all of his medical paperwork had been forged. For all he knew, he was allergic to whatever-the-fuck they put in these perfumes. He was also supposed to have taken a few breaks, to clear out his sinuses before the next batch of perfume samples, but he'd opted instead to sneak around the place to see if he could spot anything hinky while Sam and Cas interviewed the workers and management.

Heather nodded but he couldn't tell if she just wasn't convinced or if she was still kind of in shock from watching her friend go up like a yule log in front of her a few days of go. Kudos to her, though, for getting back on the horse and coming to work here again. Dean was pretty sure he would've peaced the fuck out.

Finally after another round of samples that were supposedly variations of "orange mist" that he had to rank from best to worst, Dean called it quits and took his lunch break, hoping to get a chance to poke around the employee locker room where Kendall had died, even though it'd been blocked off for the investigation.

The locker room wasn't much to write home about: battered grey-blue lockers and a few worn benches. The human torch mark about a foot from the door, though…

Dean crouched down to investigate, but as far as he could tell, it looked like a regular burn pattern. Well, as regular as can be for a person-sized scorch mark. Footsteps approached and Dean straightened up, ready to blurt out any "whoops I didn't know where I was going I'm new here" excuse. But it was just Cas and he sighed in relief.

"Please tell me you and Sam got something," he pleaded. "I need to get the hell out of here."

Cas nodded. "Sam believes it's a witch—someone who got laid off just before the burnings started."

"Great, awesome," Dean said, clapping his hands together, "let's blow this popsicle stand and gank the bastard."

"You don't want to stay?" Cas asked, deadpan as ever. "Perhaps you could find another cologne you like."

"Oh, fuck you."

"Later."

Well, Dean wasn't one to argue with a command like that, and so he hopped-to and followed Cas out the door.

 

~*~*~*~*~ ANOTHER COMMERCIAL BREAK OR MAYBE YOU JUST PAUSED THE DVR TO GET SOME POPCORN. MMM POPCORN. ~*~*~*~*~   

 

Ding dong the witch was dead and all that, and it was high-time for Dean to get the cloying mix of perfumes off of his skin. They even made a stop at a random Mom-and-Pop drugstore so he could pick up some unscented soap before heading to the motel.

Even though Dean was rarely one to turn down company in the shower, for once he just wanted to enjoy the hot water on his own, and he came out feeling a thousand times more refreshed. Cas was stretched out on their bed, one of Sam's old laptops, which had now become his, balanced on his knees. Dean couldn't help but notice the distinct lack of a Sasquatch in their midst and so he beelined across the room and crawled onto the bed, closing the computer and putting it on the far nightstand, which had the added benefit of forcing Dean to practically straddle Cas.

"Sam should be back momentarily with dinner," Cas said from beneath him.

Dean huffed and half-collapsed onto Cas into more of an awkward drape/cuddle position. "Dude, what'd we talk about, about mentioning Sam?"

"You're the one who insisted we save money by sharing a motel room."

"You just _had_ to throw that in my face," he sighed.

Oh well, he was exhausted anyway, and Cas probably would've ended up doing most of the heavy lifting. Perks of angel strength and stamina, and oh did Dean mean _perks_. So instead, he turned towards Cas, settling his arm across Cas' stomach and burying his face against his chest. Screw it, if Sam came back and saw them like this—wouldn't be the first time, wouldn't be the last, and Cas made a comfortable pillow. He breathed deep, expecting the familiar scents of Cas, like fresh air on a sunny spring day mixed with a very human...musk (dammit), that was like a drug to Dean and could calm him in an instant. Except—

"Oh sonofabitch," Dean cursed, first pressing his nose against Cas even more, trying to get even the barest hint of _something_ , before sitting up and sniffing the air like a freaking cartoon character. "I can't smell a damn thing!" He grabbed the pillow and buried his face in it, breathing deep, but even the usual scent of industrial laundry detergent and bleach didn't register.

Concerned, Cas sat up and touched his hand gently to Dean's face, sending in healing Grace. His sinuses tingled, but a few good sniffs confirmed what he suspected: nada. It was like having a cold without the cold.

"Shit, this ain't permanent, is it?"

Cas shook his head. "I don't think so. I believe it's more of a system overload. You're otherwise fine, though I do think you may have been allergic to some of the chemicals."

"Great."

The door opened and Sam entered, holding out a white plastic bag and a cup holder tray with two soft drinks. "Burritos!" he announced. "There's a great place like a mile from here."

Dean eyed the burritos, then his brother, and then he grinned over at Cas. "Maybe there's an upside to not smelling a damn thing."

"Lucky you."

 

~*~*~*~*~ END CREDITS ~*~*~*~*~  

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Coldest Hits:  
> [Here was the prompt and rules](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/183537822785/april-2019-prompt-betas-truemate-posting-dates). 
> 
>  
> 
> My other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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